So. I made it.
After a day of driving, packing, moving, unpacking, and putting things together, I’m here, settled into my apartment, and nice and satisfied from a frozen organic meal consisting of vegetables and tofu while Family Guy plays. Don’t judge me.
I don’t really have much of importance to say about yesterday, although I did eat my brains out at the Italian restaurant we went to last night, and my parents treated my moving to NYC like I was heading across the street to get a frozen yogurt. My dad got me into a big bear hug and said “Yaaaaay, I’m so happy for you! See you soon!” Man, they really wanted me out of that house. My sister was the same. She merely said “Talk to you soon! Call me!” Hearts of stone, these people.
The move-in was pretty seamless, although the sight of my former bedroom at my parent’s house almost bare was intense. I couldn’t really picture how my new apartment would come together, but thankfully it looks pretty much exactly how I thought it would. Except for a few minor hiccups (my makeup bag was left behind! I feel naked!), I was happy with how it turned out. Today all I needed were more groceries, curtain clips, plastic hangers, and the like. When my sister left and I was on my own, I immediately took a two-hour tour of my new neighborhood. I attempted to get acquainted with things by putting every restaurant I saw into my Blackberry, as well as bars and lounges or other places of interests. I got quite a big list. I also stopped into Urban Outfitters…and bought two books. I will never not be a nerd.
The one person that I was dreading saying goodbye to was Connie. Connie has been my best friend for eleven years, and when there’s no one else around, we’re each other’s lifelines. She came over last night to give me a going-away present: a thick, blank journal with a picture of us at the Eiffel Tower on it, and a necklace she made for me from beads I had picked out the previous day. She also gave me a card that I read with trepidation, as I wasn’t sure if I’d cry or not. I ended up having to console her a lot more than I had to calm myself down. She was a mess. I felt terrible.
I love my apartment. It’s cute. Sure, it’s only about ten feet bigger than my dorm room junior year of college, but it gets the job done. It’s very high up, which unless I lean out the window isn’t a problem for me (it makes it harder for people who want to pillage). Plus, it’s just in one of the best neighborhoods in the best city on earth. What more could a girl want?
Well. A job on Broadway. But that’s for another day…
PS. My sister thinks NYC is loud. Actually, I’m far up enough that the noise doesn’t bug me. It’s the smell that bothers most. In the summer it’s reminiscent of hot garbage.
PPS. The cable doesn’t get set up until next week. Until then, it’s the basics. That, and Telemundo, which is bizarrely addicting.
PPPS. There is a Pinkberry and a Red Mango within one minute walking distance of my apartment. I’m probably going to be obese within about a month. But it will be worth it. Oh, frozen yogurt.